


Killer In The Mirror

by SpaceDadStatus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Heavy Angst, Lance liked Keith b4 he died n we have flashbacks, Mental Health Issues, Murder, No Romance, Paranormal, Past Character Death, Spirits, Very Slight Klance, but I didn't really want ships here, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 12:16:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15729231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDadStatus/pseuds/SpaceDadStatus
Summary: There are infinite dimensions. Anyone who has ever taken an art class, and those who haven’t, know this to be mostly true.It starts on zero, a simple point. Extend that point to a line, the first dimension. It continues in one direction only, it has no area. Add a few more points, make a square, the second dimension. It has an area, but no volume. If you mess with it, crumple the paper into a ball, it has volume, you have the third dimension. Nearly all our interactions are in this dimension. We’re certain of the existence of one other dimension, that is normally where it ends.Draw a square, draw another square slightly diagonal, connect the vertices. This is a half dimension, made to seem as if it is in the third, but there is still no volume, it is still two-dimensional. A half point. Stuck in between two planes of existence.----This is a slight ship, Halloween (ish) themed story.There will be extremely heavy gore and main character death. There will be murder, and suicide is completely possible. I will add trigger warnings to any chapters with attempted and/or successful suicide.Reader discretion is advised.UPDATES EVERY OTHER SUNDAY





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grunge_ish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grunge_ish/gifts).



> TW// Suicide mentioned in the beginning of this chapter, nothing in detail. 
> 
> Murder is also mentioned, this time in detail. Please read carefully

Keith Akira Kogane had never believed in the paranormal. It was stupid, and science easily disproved any and all “theories” and hypothesis about anything even remotely paranormal.

 

Keith Akira Kogane would rather cut off his own leg and burn down his entire apartment building that believe in ghosts or demons or any of that idiotic nonsense. His entire life, no matter who he was friends with, he refused to even _entertain_ the idea.

 

Keith Akira Kogane did not have very many friends, nor did he have enemies.

  
When Keith Akira Kogane began to wake in the night, screaming, cold sweat soaking through to his mattress, crying about someone, _something_ watching him, everyone assumed he had finally gone insane.

 

Keith Akira Kogane had never had good mental health. He had been in hospital after hospital, been on countless meds, been subject to countless lab tests, most people assumed that it had finally caught up to him.

 

When Keith Akira Kogane was found, in his apartment building, in a pool of his own blood, throat slashed, everyone thought he had finally snapped. That he had finally let his mind take over. No investigation was opened, it was written as a suicide. He had no family. He had friends, but they suspected the same as the rest.

 

As Keith Akira Kogane, watched his lifeless body carried out of the building, Shiro sobbing over his stretcher, his entire life crashed down upon him, and the previous 24 hours came flooding into head.  

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                           

 

There was absolutely nothing strange about the Thursday morning before his death. The forecast predicted rain, so he grabbed the umbrella beside his front door and headed down the stairs. He had not noticed that he failed to take his pills until lunch that same day.

 

His hands shook violently as he gripped the disgusting toilet bowl and emptied the entire contents of his stomach into it. Even after there was nothing to vomit except bile, the retching did not stop. Once he was stable enough to stand, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and left the building as fast as he could.

 

It was pouring rain, but he did not bother to grab his umbrella. The only thought in his head at the time being, get home before the withdrawal affected him more than it already had.

 

Keith Akira Kogane did not notice the figure that followed him from the building.

 

He arrived at his apartment, barely being able to unlock the door, not noticing that it did not shut properly. He stumbled to the bathroom, not caring about the pills that fell from the bottle as he swallowed his dose, dry.

 

His cat, Isosceles, or Izzy, was in the living room. He could hear her meowing loudly at something. He walked into the living room on shaky legs, thinking she was asking for food, only to stop dead in his tracks.

 

Keith Akira Kogane did not know he was going to die today. His hand flew to his waist band, where he had his mother’s blade tucked safely in its sheath.

 

Keith Akira Kogane did not know the man in his kitchen, standing with his back toward Keith, a long blade gripped tightly in his hand.

 

Izzy turned toward Keith, mewing anxiously, and the slight change in sound was enough to pull the man’s attention away from the window he was looking out of. It had started to hail, and Keith thought he could hear tornado sirens in the distance, though the ringing in his ears was too loud to know for sure.

 

As the man turned, all the electrical items in his house surged, then sharply busted. He could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest, Izzy ran for cover, barely managing to make it under the small loveseat before the man was lunging toward Keith.

 

Keith Akira Kogane tried to fight back, but the man was too powerful. His knife was easily yanked from his hand, the man throwing his own blade to the ground, now holding Keith’s _own_ _knife_ to his throat.

 

Keith Akira Kogane wishes he could say it was quick, painless. The man took the knife and pushed the corner right under Keith’s left ear and dragged. A scream was ripped from his throat, soon turning into a disgusting gurgle as blood started to pulse from the slash with every heartbeat.

 

The neighbors would report later that they had heard nothing, the storm and sirens drowning out all other noise.

 

Keith Akira Kogane fell to the floor with a thud, the action causing more blood to splash onto the hardwood. The man had not cut deep, the tear in his throat being shallow enough that there was a small chance he could survive if he was found right away, but Keith Akira Kogane was not found right away.

 

The man placed the knife next to Keith, grabbed his own blade, and slowly walked from Keith’s apartment, locking the door behind him. Izzy yowled, and threw herself next to the convulsing boy who was bleeding out on his apartment floor. She started to vigorously lick the wound on his neck, the action only causing him more agony.

Keith Akira Kogane tried to cry for help. Someone, _anyone_ to save him. He didn’t want to die, not like this. Once his vison started to gather white and black splotches around the corners, he stopped shouting. He thought he was sobbing, though his blood had pooled around his head and shoulders by now, so he wasn’t sure.

 

Keith Akira Kogane used all the strength he had left to bring his hand to his shoulder and softly stroke Izzy once.

 

His hand stilled, and the blood stopped pulsing from his throat.

 

Keith Akira Kogane’s heart had stopped. Izzy let out a heart-breaking cry of pain and mourning for her owner, stood from the puddle of his blood, and curled into his chest, licking his face and neck, doing _anything_ to wake him up.

 

But Keith Akira Kogane did not wake up. He was found a day later when his best friend, Takashi Shirogane had come to invite him to dinner.

 

Keith Akira Kogane did wake up then, but something was very, _very_ wrong. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings in this chapter. Death is only mentioned.
> 
> Here's a pretty early morning update because I am way too excited about this story.  
> I've had this written since Friday, and I've had to force myself to not post it early.

Keith sat on the floor of his apartment, the exact spot his body was only hours ago. This wasn’t right. He is _dead_. He shouldn’t be sitting in his apartment in blood stained clothes as he watched Shiro walk around, softly touching things, tears escaping his eyes. He had long-since stopped trying to touch or talk to him.

 

The others were on their way, he knew that. The police had contacted them as soon as Shiro had calmed down and told them all to make their way to his apartment. He could hear Pidge’s grief-stricken cry from the phone, so he knew that they knew about his death.

 

The police had said suicide, the neighbors heard nothing. Keith Akira Kogane would not have any case opened, it was over. Shiro believed the coroner, that Keith had finally snapped and slashed his own throat. There was no signs of forced entry or foul play in the apartment, and it was Keith’s own knife in his hand, with his blood, and his finger prints.

 

Keith had screamed at everyone that _it wasn’t him_. _He didn’t do this to himself, there was a man here_. The only thing that seemed to see him was Isosceles. She hobbled over to where Keith was sitting, blood stained fur matching his own appearance.

 

Keith remembered when he rescued her, she was tiny, fur similar looking to how it did now, matted with blood. She had been hit by a car, no one thought she would survive. She surprised them all, she survived and only lost her front right paw in the process, hints her name. They looked everywhere for the owner. Izzy was a Somali, she wasn’t a cheap breed, but they could find nothing. So, the shelter let Keith take her home, and she repaid him by saving his life more than once. She had tried this time, but there was nothing the cat could do to save him.

She sat as close to him as she dared and let out these painful mewls of sorrow, like she had just lost a litter of kittens. It pulled on his heart, she couldn’t see him, just sense him. Allura was the one who would take her, it would have been Shiro, but he already had two cats of his own that didn’t take well to new animals.

 

Keith knew Allura would take good care of her, she loved her nearly as much as Keith did. She was the vet who saved Izzy, her and Keith becoming friends through everything. He closed his eyes and started sobbing.

  
Keith Akira Kogane hated crying. He would only cry late at night, alone and in the dark. No one could see or hear him, he was alone, stuck in this half dimension. The others came, everyone but Lance. Keith wasn’t surprised, he didn’t even think Lance was his friend. Hunk, bless him, apologized on his best friend’s behalf but it didn’t matter to Keith. He wasn’t expecting him anyway. 

 

The police had done their best on cleaning the floor, though it was warped, and blood was congealed into the cracks of the wood. The whole apartment smelled of death, and Keith wanted _out_. He didn’t want to be stuck there forever. He cried and screamed. Eventually he was left alone, his friends leaving, tears much similar to Keith’s on their faces. Shiro had scooped Izzy up, taking her to Allura. Keith’s own dried blood on her fur rubbing slightly onto Shiro’s clothing, only making him sob more.

 

Keith Akira Kogane was completely alone. He couldn’t interact with anything, he just sat there. He stayed alone in that apartment, laying on the bloodstained floor, for what seemed like weeks. Eventually, Shiro came back to the apartment, beginning to pack Keith’s things to remove them from the apartment. Keith was so tired of being alone that, even though he knew Shiro did not know he was there, he followed him.

 

To himself, he looked normal, except for the blood-soaked clothing. He walked behind Shiro through the city, trying once or twice to speak to him, but he knew it was useless. He followed him to the apartment Keith had nearly grown up in.

 

He hadn’t been there since Matt died last year. He was killed in a car accident, the other person involved leaving the scene with nothing more than a few scrapes. It affected everyone’s lives, namely Shiro, Pidge, and Keith himself. Shiro and Matt were engaged, not long left till they married. Shiro was heartbroken, that pain hurting Keith as well. Pidge took the loss of their brother extremely hard, completely distancing themselves from everyone except Keith.

 

Keith had only seen Pidge once since his murder, and he felt himself sag slightly at the thought of all they were going through. They were so young, they didn’t deserve any of this to happen to them. His thoughts stayed on Pidge as he followed Shiro through the house.

 

Shiro walked into the bedroom and carefully set the box he had onto the floor. He stood looking at the box for a moment, then his face contorted, and he closed his eyes tightly. His back thumped onto the wall as he slid down it, burying his face into his knees. His hands rose to his head as he tightly gripped his hair, pulling on it.

 

“Oh, Keith.” He whispered into his knees, voice cracking with pain. “First Matt, now you?” He let out a soft sob, and Keith reached out his hand to lay it on Shiro’s shoulder. Without thinking, he let the hand drop, and Shiro shivered. He could touch, but they felt nothing but cold.

 

He took that as his dismissal, wanting nothing more than to tell Shiro that it was okay, that he was still there, but he couldn’t. He stumbled out into the living room, and hesitantly sit on the couch. One of Shiro’s cats, a Japanese Bobtail named Ater, a Latin way of saying black, was lounging on the couch, carefully grooming. She didn’t seem bothered by Keith, actually starting to purr as she cleaned.

 

Mandarin, a Savannah previously owned by Matt, mewed and jumped onto the couch, rubbing his head on the cushion where Keith was. The cat always did seem to take a liking to Keith, constantly with him when he could come over, completely ignoring everyone except the dark-haired boy.

 

Keith’s eyes started to drop, his body not actually needing the sleep, but him having nothing better to do. Right as he could feel himself drifting into something that felt like sleep, the door to the apartment opened, and Lance carefully walked in.

 

“Shiro? Are you alright?” He asked softly walking into the living room, only to freeze when his eyes landed on the couch.

 

“Fuck.” He muttered quietly, ripping his eyes away from the living room. Ater jumped up from her seat and ran over to the Cuban boy, and he leaned down to pet her gently.

 

Keith’s eyes had started to close again, not knowing what Lance was swearing it. He felt himself drift and soon Lance was quietly, but loud enough to startle the dead boy, calling his name.

 

“Shit, Keith! Don’t fall asleep.” He whisper-yelled, walking away from the protesting Ater. Mandarin stood up to his full height, being a huge cat, and hissed as Lance approached the now slightly transparent boy on the couch.

 

“You- you can- what?” Keith stuttered, not actually having to keep his voice low, but doing it more in habit.

 

“Calm down, you’re okay, just don’t drift off.” Lance spoke, ignoring the large, hissing cat on the couch and walking over. Mandarin was declawed anyway so he couldn’t do much more than growl and swipe at the boy.

 

“Explain.” Keith growled, his own anger seeming to calm the cat somehow. His fur lay flat and he curled up where Keith’s thighs should be.

“So, it’s an extremely long story.” Lance mumbled, Ater jumping into his lap. He stroked her fur and started his story.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All deaths are important to the plot and will be explained as the story continues. 
> 
> (It also hurt to kill Matt, I love my baby boy too much. But The Angst Lord spoke and I must oblige, as I cannot write angst without them. Aka this would not be possible without The Lightwood's (tm) help.)
> 
> For reference, here are Ater and Mandarin. 
> 
> Ater: Japanese Bobtail http://www.vetstreet.com/cats/japanese-bobtail#1_ugw20zmq (She is black, obviously.)
> 
> Mandarin: Savannah Cat http://www.vetstreet.com/cats/savannah (Savannahs are FUCKING MASSIVE LIKE DAMN.) 
> 
> (Cheeky little size ref for Savannahs: https://www.kittyloaf.com/how-big-are-savannah-cats/ (Mandarin is a F1 Savannah.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this one. Be ready for either the next update or the one after that, it gets kinda sad. 
> 
> But, Happy September. It's Halloween now you can't change my mind. Anyway, enjoy.

“So, you can see dead people.” Keith deadpanned, trying his best to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. If he would have found this out before his death, he would have laughed in Lance’s face for saying something so stupid.

 

“I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?” He asked. He didn’t sound rude, just tired.

 

“Is that why you weren’t at my apartment?” Keith asked, the huge cat still kneading the couch where his thighs were.

 

Lance looked down and rubbed his neck shyly. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry about that.” He looked away from Keith as he let his hand drop.

 

“I don’t care. But listen, if you can see and hear me I have something to tell you.” Keith spoke, suddenly remembering the man who killed him.

 

Lance looked back over to him, noticing his change in tone. The whole apartment was suddenly filled with tension, enough to make Mandarin jump from his spot on the couch to run and hide under an old La-Z-Boy that Shiro wouldn’t throw away.

 

“Go ahead.” Lance spoke quietly.

 

“I didn’t kill myself. Someone else did.” Keith spoke quickly, still trying to wipe his memory of the gruesome death.

 

“I assumed. People who died of suicide don’t normally stay in the bridge between worlds. Unless they were bullied into it, but even then, its normally children and teenagers.” He shuddered at the thought.  Even Keith shuttered, Lance seemed to speak from experience.

 

They both stayed silent for a moment, Keith letting Lance think about whatever it seemed he was thinking about. Finally, Lance spoke up.

 

“Who killed you.” He spoke even quieter than before, his voice nearly inaudible.

 

“I don’t know.” Keith responded, voice only slightly louder than Lance’s, even with him knowing that Lance was the only one who could hear him anyway.

 

“Describe as much as you can, please. This is important.” Lance’s voice stayed the same volume, but his tone became much more serious. More serious than Keith had ever heard him speak.

 

“I thought you didn’t like me. Why do you care who killed me?” Keith asked, standing from the couch and walking around. He never did like to stand still, this clearly not going away even after death.

 

Lance sighed loudly. “It’s not that I didn’t like you, Keith.” He said more after that sentence, but he mumbled it so quietly that Keith couldn’t hear it.

 

“What? I may be dead, but I still have human hearing.” He remarked, still pacing around the room. Lance shook his head as if to tell him not to worry about. Keith didn’t bother to ask again.

 

“I don’t know. I never saw his face. My lights exploded when he turned toward me.” He said the last part quietly, embarrassed. He sounded crazy when he said it, but Lance just told him he could speak to the dead and he _wasn’t lying_ , so it was not much was crazier.

 

“The lights?” He asked, completely sitting up and alert to everything the dead boy was saying now.

 

“Um, yeah. The lights. All of them in the apartment just shut off with a loud cracking sound. Then I was dead before I could do anything.” He looked down, pain in his throat. He lifted his hand to the burning pain and could feel the skin there, raised like an old keloid scar. He threw his hand down, not wanting to feel the aftermath of his murder.

 

“He killed me with my mother’s knife, Lance. The only thing she left to keep me safe was the one thing that killed me.” He could feel his eyes begin to gather tears, or whatever the equivalent of tears to a ghost are.  He took an extremely deep breath and turned away from the Cuban on the couch. Keith always thought he would die of an accidental overdose with the thousands of drugs his doctors would force him to consume, not murdered by his mother's beloved blade.

 

That knife was all he had to remember his family. His mother’s before she left, his father’s after, his before he died. Keith wondered that somehow, maybe the man knew this. There were many other knives in the apartment, the man was even standing in the kitchen. The more that Keith thought about this, he realized that his friends should have known that he didn’t do this to himself. Keith loved that knife more than he loved anything except for Izzy. He would never use the only thing his mother ever gave him to kill himself.

 

Lance has started speaking again, so Keith turned back to him. Eyes dry now. 

 

“I think I know who killed you, Keith.” He whispered, his shoulders sagged and head down. Keith’s eyes widened, and he sat down on the couch next to him. He said nothing, and Keith wanted to know, but he didn’t want to piss him off.

 

“I think it was the same man who killed Matt.” His voice cracked when he said Matt’s name, and Keith could feel his heart drop to his stomach.

 

“What.” His voice was sharp, full of pain by the mention of Matt.

 

“Matt was killed in a car accident, Lance. I don’t know what kind of bullshit you think I’ll buy from you. Just because you’re the only one I can talk to does not make your word law.” Keith tried to keep his voice low, not noticing that the lights flickered the louder he got.  He had stood up from the couch again, distancing himself from Lance, walking closer to where Mandarin was.

 

“Wait! Listen. I can talk to the dead, Keith. I’ve talked to Matt. Do you really think he would drive into a median? Even if he lost control? Matt doesn’t lose control, he’s Matt.” He said, still having to keep his voice quiet. He raised his hands in surrender, taking a few steps toward Keith. He thought about what Lance said. It was strange that Matt lost control of the car.

 

“Fine. I’ll listen to you. But I need to see Pidge. Take me to them. Please.” He whispered. He felt tired for the first time in weeks. He felt a tear fall and he didn’t bother to stop it.


	4. AUTHOR NOTE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!!! :)

Hey, everyone. So, you may have noticed that I haven't been posting much of anything on this site at the moment, and I apologize for that. I could throw a whole bunch of bullshit reasons at you (school, family issues, mental and physical health issues, so on) but the main reason is this. 

Currently, all of my stories are Voltron related because I honestly love the show and it has brought so many good things to my life. I could get sappy, but I'll save it and I won't. Anyway, back to the topic at hand, my mini hiatus. I am a HUGE reader. I have read multiple series multiple times, its one of the things in my life that I really enjoy. Considering how much fan-fiction I read/write that probably isn't very surprising for you all. But! I have always been into a few large series, such as the entire Mortal Instruments franchise (though the fan-fiction of that on this website is so, so fucked up.) and Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, things like that. 

Anyway. I decided that I was going to re-read some of the Mortal Instruments books recently due to a finale book for the Dark Artifices series and a COMPLETELY NEW SERIES COMING OUT FOCUSING ON MY CANON GAY BABIES!!! (You can probably see how much I love this franchise) But as I started re-reading these books, I stumbled upon some SUPER (the TMI fandom is pretty old) old fan-fiction I read in the last few years. I suddenly remembered why I started writing in the first place, both fan-fiction ad my own , original works. This fandom. Cassandra Clare (author) had this amazing writing style which is the thing that got me into writing in the first place, so I am officially back into TMI. 

This means that there will be more fandoms on this account, rather than just Voltron. I may change my name as well to my more used, less fandom based name that I have had on my Wattpad for a while. Anyway. All of this aside, I just wanted to tell you guys why I have been gone and update you on some changes that will be happening soon. 

Love you all, Simon.

**Author's Note:**

> For Iz. (grunge_ish) 
> 
> Here's your ghost au. I hope my sad attempt at angst suffices for you, the Angst God.


End file.
